Logics of Attraction
by Shinigami29
Summary: [drabble] He could never explain the logics of attraction to anyone… non, they were far too complicated. They involved how long you had known the person you were attracted to, how cute they were to you, how sexy they were to you, if they made you laugh…


_Disclaimer: _I don't own anything Gilmore Girls... if I did, I wouldn't be here, on my knees, begging you not ta rat me out... I DUN WANNA GET SUED!

**Logics of Attraction**

He could never explain the logics of attraction to anyone… non, they were far too complicated. They involved how long you had known the person you were attracted to, how cute they were to you, how sexy they were to you, if they made you laugh… and everyone had their own set of logic when it came to this.

His sense of logic was very clear… or used to be.

He would spot an attractive girl in one of his favourite cafes, and watch her for a few cautious weeks – see what she liked to eat, find what time she got there, make sure she drunk good coffee – before he approached her one morning, telling her he had taken a liberty to order for her; maybe she would like to join him? Either she said yes or she said no, and that was that.

Simple logic it would seem, graced him in his life… his calendar was never without it's dates, his little non-carbs diet was working wonders, all his clothes were up to date; if only he hadn't done the one, single, most catastrophic thing to turn his world up side down…

He accepted the job at the Independence Inn.

How may you ask, was this the most catastrophic thing he had ever done? Well, first of all, it removed him from France; something he had been dying to do for a long time, but it wasn't until he arrived State-side that he realized just how… primitive people could be. Where was the laughter and romance he had been running from? Was it possible that it could all just disappear?

Then he met Lorelai Gilmore.

Ah, Ms Gilmore… an interesting lady, to put things lightly. He could remember their first meeting perfectly, as if it had only happened yesterday… and sometimes, he wished it had. Then he could have gotten out of it.

_Flashback_

"Ah, right… Mr?" the brunette across from him seemed nervous, shuffling her papers around as he tried to organize her clipboard.

"Monsieur Gerald," he corrected her, his French accent thick. He bit his tongue as he continued to watch her fumble around for the right papers. She cheered as she finally fond his application.

"Woah," she nodded in approval; he grinned to himself. Yes, he did have an impressive resume, if he did say so himself… "You came all the way from France?" … but apparently that didn't matter here.

"Oui, oui," he nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry," she shrugged sheepishly. "I'm kinda new on the job… Just getting promoted and everything… you're actually the first guy I've ever interviewed."

"Is that so?" he drawled out sarcastically.

"It is," she nodded, a child-like glee in her voice. "But I do know that you've talked to our previous manager, and he was the one who requested you come here… I'm positive that he wouldn't of called you all the way from France just to let you down, so I think it's safe to say that you got the job… but, seeing as I need to make a good impression, or else I may get fired," she laughed nervously, and he couldn't help but be amused, "could you… um… give me some tips for the next time I have to do this?"

"Tips?" he blinked; he hadn't been expecting that. "What do you need tips fore? Jus' read a resume, if you are impressed, phone up the applicant, ask a few questions, then tell them whether or not zey have gotten the job."

"Wow," she scratched at the back of her neck, before messily putting her clipboard back in order. "You make it sound very easy…"

"It is," he insisted sarcastically. "You do you're job, I do mine; what could be more simple?"

"Pie," she answered.

It took a moment for her response to kick in, and even longer for him to register that she had actually said it. "What?"

"Pie is simpler," she shrugged. "Ya know… its round, it's filled with delicious filling, it's nice and fattening… not a lot about a pie that people can't understand."

At that very moment, he knew he should of turned back, ran out of there, got on the first flight back to France, and settled back into his old job… they would of loved for him to come back! But then he remembered the déception in his Grandmere's eyes, (the only emotion she had ever shown towards him) and remembered that he had to stay away from his family, else be driven insane and forced into relationships he didn't want nor have time for…

He steeled his back and forced a fake smile on his lips – something he would be doing a lot in the near-future – and looked Ms Gilmore straight in the eye, and said, "Of course."

_End Flashback_

That meeting had signed his death warrant.

Yes, it was fun at first… just a rebellious act against his family, something he would eventually get over, he knew… It was humourous to watch the cook, Sooke, argue each morning with the Potato-Man who delivered their produire, to see Ms Gilmore's daughter rant to her about being too childish, to greet the guests in any way he saw fit… after all, not _everyone _could understand him…

He found out one morning that Ms Gilmore had a fine taste in coffee; she preferred a dark blend, very strong with no cream or sugar, compared to the usual ladies he found who would only submit themselves to a very weak blend watered down with milk and sugar.

Much to his astonishment, he was breaking out of his carb diet to treat himself to a bagel each morning… he took to taking two with him to the Inn once she found out and started stealing half of his breakfast.

_Flashback_

"Bon appetite!" she smiled one morning, exchanging a bagel for a cup of coffee. It was almost a routine… he spared her half a smile before spreading cream cheese over his.

Her accent was terrible.

"Merci," he thanked her, taking a large sip of the strong coffee.

"Non, non, non! Merci beaucoup!" Her smile grew when she said the phrase correctly.

"Did Rory buy you a dictionnaire, Ms Gilmore?" he asked politely. He must have said something wrong though, because she scowled at him.

"For the millionth time, call me Lorelai!" she demanded with a glare. "I mean, with all this 'Ms Gilmore' talk, I'm starting to feel old! Have you no shame Michel?"

"None at all," he answered easily enough.

_End Flashback_

He found her antics amusing to the point, that he realized something that he should of much, much sooner… he was beginning to be attracted to her.

Why hadn't he seen it? He knew the signs… her taste in coffee, her choice of breakfast, the little crinkle in her eyes when she laughed… he doted upon her for non good reason. He _enjoyed _her company.

Was he that blind?

He was glad at his newfound revelation; he was attracted to a lovely, charismatic lady, of whom his parents would most certainly detest upon meeting; what could make him happier?

But of course, it seemed mere moments after he discovered the fact that it all started going down hill…

_Flashback_

"Michel, this is Tobin," Lorelai said hurriedly, straightening out her skirts and checking her hair in her pocket mirror. "He's gonna be the new Night Manager," she looked up and shot him a kind smile, and he felt the nervous flutter of butterflies in his stomach; why had it taken him so long to notice? "Now, you two play nice… I havta get outta her, like, yesterday, or I'm never gonna make that parent/teacher meeting… bye now!"

She turned on her heel and left, and like that he was left alone with his man… this Tobin. He could tell just by his state of dress that he would never be fully impressed with him.

Never, in his life, would Michel forget the first words Tobin ever said to him. "You're in love with your boss." Later he would agree with himself it was not his words of choice, but the way he had said them to definitely, that bothered him so much…

"What?" he snapped at him, glaring down his nose at the man.

"As if you'd ever have a chance," he dared to laugh at him… him, who knew her better than he did!

"Who asked you?" he hissed.

"No one," Tobin answered easily. "I was just stating the obvious; maybe you should try for someone in your own league? I'm sure there's a nice young lady with half a brain who wouldn't notice all your flaws and-"

He slapped him. Right then and there, not five minutes into conversation, and he had lost control.

Tobin slowly looked back at him, the 'SMACK!' of skin against skin still hanging in the silence… with a fierce glare he leaned forwards to mutter into the Frenchman's ear… "I was going to let you humiliate yourself in your own way, _connard_, but now I think I'll just prove to you that even someone with absolutely no interest in her has a better chance than you…"

_End Flashback_

And so he had… it was almost funny, really, and he would have enjoyed the laugh had he not been affected so sourly with the outcome.

As the years past, he went back to his vindictive ways, biting off sarcastic remarks and returning to his non-carbs diet. He stopped bringing bagels every morning, and took to browsing through different language dictionnaires during his breaks; it certainly kept him from staring and starting up awkward conversations that, more often than not, had an anecdote about the, _'ever-so-charming'_ Tobin…

Every once in awhile she could still bring him coffee, and the times she did she would always tease and remind him when he used to bring bagels for the both of them… telling him that he'd be horrified to tell his grandchildren that he had been a decent human being in his past.

Always he would calmly respond with a remark he used to reserve for similar conversations, (albeit, different motives behind the conversations…) with his mere back in France…

Several times he found himself on the phone, ready to dial the numbers to get a ticket back to his homeland, to be rid of the silent torment that was Lorelai Gilmore, the interesting lady who he had been the first person he had ever interviewed, but always he silently put the phone back down and turned the page in the dictionnaire, pretending that it had never happened…

How could he leave the woman he was attracted to? Yes, it was a strange attraction, with no ties that suggested she would ever feel the same way… but it was still an attraction. And far be it him to try and explain the logics of attraction…

…after all, everyone had their own sense of logic.

_-Owari_


End file.
